


Triumph's Tribulations

by Lotornomiko



Category: Valkyrie Profile 2: Silmeria, Valkyrie Profile Series, Valkyrie Profile: Lenneth
Genre: Adventure, Alt ending to the second game where no one died except for Odin, Angst, Drama, F/M, Fantasy, MAJOR CANNON DIVERGENCE, Mild to major dubious consent on the Lezard Lenneth side, Multi, Romance, RuAli is the light to the darkness of Lezalenne here, Though mild at the time of this tagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-01-23 17:35:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18554539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lotornomiko/pseuds/Lotornomiko
Summary: A multi ship, multi cast story.To rule over all had never been his desire, Lezard only wanting to escape the anguish of his heart by dominating hers. Lenneth within his grasp, he had never dreamed of what the power of Creation would demand of him. Or of the lengths the other Gods would go to, to see that power back in it's rightful seat. Forced into a role he had never wanted, there's comes the many trials and tribulations of triumph.They had survived so much, Odin, Dipan, Lezard and his twisted world tree. Only to be cast out into a world that had fallen into decay. With Creation's days numbered, and no chance for success, Alicia, along with Rufus, Arngrim and Brahms are on a journey. A journey to find the souls of two sisters that might help them set back all that is right. There's a romance brewing, along with temptation, Alicia having to fight off the hungers of her undead nature, for to give in, is to lose her one and only chance to be cured.Silmeria and Hrist's souls are out there somewhere....while Loki waits in the shadows, for his chance.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Lezard's Triumph](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/475312) by Lotornomiko. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't own the series or the characters. Make no money off of this story either. Done purely for recreational purposes and as a creative outlet!  
> \---Michelle

There was the labored sound of panting, those desperate breaths a harsh rasp for air that seemed to drown out all else, the agitated swish of the silver blue braid at her back, the slam of her armored foot falls striking against the pavement, and the rapid beat of her own heart. She felt it though, that pounding inside her, the woman’s chest tight with that panicked emotion. With that fear, each sliver of that potent terror, driving her forward. Each and every step determined, the woman never faltering, moving as though she could outrun the despair that was bubbling up inside, moving as though there was still some slim chance of escape.

She had been running for what felt like days, like weeks, maybe even whole years. An entire eternity of this never ending pursuit, the chase extending across realms and through time, with countless lives lost and irreparable damage having been done. Having born witness to it all, she had never once stopped, not even at the loss of her sword. She had fought and clawed her way through the soulless, those monsters that populated this otherwise desolate world, learning well the taste of despair, losing her hope bit by bit, and still she had persisted. Over and over, past the dormant volcanoes, through the withered forest, and finally to this land of ice. She’d have crawled on her hands and knees if that is what it would have taken, the packed snow and shards of crystal an endless sight that extended in all directions.

It had to be here! That thought repeated in her head, again and again, the desperation inside her growing. Moving through her and translating into a wild energy, her steps almost clumsy as she pushed through the remaining reserves of her dwindling strength. Her ragged breath became even harsher, the woman one step closer to hyperventilating. She kept up that relentless pace, past the snow covered monuments, and into the bitter chill, fighting against the wind that would have thrown a lesser being back.

“There!” The energy sensed, the hope that had been dying then exploded inside her, lighting her up with its warmth and relief. She all but fell to her knees, clawing at the tightly packed snow with her bare hands, feeling the shock of it, the icy discomfort, but she kept on digging. Deeper and deeper, until it lay revealed, the tiniest sliver of a shard that could have been just another piece of ice, if not for all the power within it.

Her hands shook, the shard held almost reverently between them. It gave off a warm glow, it’s power pulsating faintly, but it was more than enough. It couldn’t do do anything more than act as a gateway between worlds, but that would then buy her some time. To rest and recover, and more importantly regroup. Then and only then would she stand a chance at mending the rifts etched into destiny anew.

With that heavy breath barreling out of her, she then closed her eyes as though in prayer. She brought the shard close to her chest, feeling it pulse in time to the throbbing beat of her heart. It was responding, resonating with her desires, and when her eyes snapped open, the cobalt blue color positively blazed, the shard reacting, sending out the last waves of an immeasurable power. Those ripples tingled upon her skin, seeping in past the shattered remains of her armor, all that warmth and vitality a most welcome caress. With that energy came the queerest of sensations, a kind of wrenching pull as the world around her began to shift.

She didn’t fight the pull, all her trust and her hope placed in this single shard’s power. The white around her took on a hue of color, such bold golds, and earthy browns. There was even a splash of vibrant green, life itself in full bloom. She let herself be embraced by it, by that warm power, and then the cold slap of reality hit her hard.

“No….” A protest whispered out of her. “NO!”

It was the Heavens in all their twisted grandeur, that golden shower from up above, the leaves of a gigantic tree. It’s branches extended in every which way, forming a twisted canopy of it’s limbs, with just barely enough space for the light to seep through. That light that of a moon made fat and full, which hung in a sky that she knew would never change, never lighten, the perpetual twilight upon her.

Beneath the canopy of that tree, was the remnants of a battle field, blood having splattered and dried, sculpted into a pattern she knew all too well. It left it’s wound marred deep into the ground, the faded remnants of a power that made her skin crawl to remember.

With that shudder running through her, she then forced herself to look away from the spell’s remains. To the stairs to the south, that led down a far too familiar path. To the world that was ever so terrifying in it’s warped attempt at beauty, that perversion a mockery of all that was balanced and light in the universe. It was dark, and it was forbidding, and she wanted nothing more than to turn from it. But the stairs to the north were NOT an option, not with what---WHO they led to.

With the softest of moans, she started to get up off her knees. Staring out at the world when the only light was that of the gold leaves falling off of the tree, she saw that grotesque creation spread out, extending even further than she had remembered of it, the land and it’s monsters taunting her with the inescapable nature of her circumstance.

Her grim expression nearly crumpled, and with it that last remaining bit of hope, the shard abandoned, the last of it’s power completely exhausted on her desperate attempt to escape. Her breaths continued to come out in uneven pants, her body so tired and beaten down, all that endless running and fighting catching up with her at last.

“Now do you see?” She refused to startle at that quiet voice from directly behind her, the woman continuing to stare out at the world that was seemingly without end. “The futility that there is in the act of running from me?”

She didn’t dignify that with a response, merely curling fingers into fists, when strong arms suddenly enveloped her. The tremor that made her body shake wasn’t outright fear, but ANGER, the hopelessness of the situation birthing a violence inside her.

“Will you try again?” The man asked.

“Yes.” She hissed, and felt the arms tighten around her even more.

“Lenneth.” Her name sighed out of him in an almost chastising manner. “Lenneth, why must you persist in such foolishness? You know there is no escape. Not in this world, this reality I made for us both.”

“I WILL find a way.” The woman, Lenneth, answered, with a stubborn set to her jaw.

“Why waste so much effort and energy? There are other, far more pleasurable endeavors to be had.” His voice had gone husky, the man breathing out his words against her ear.

“No.” She shook her head with that answer, ever defiant, ever determined. “I’ll not give you what you want.”

He sighed then, as though the words she had spoken had inspired his pity. “I’ve an entire eternity to change your mind….here….in this world where there is only you and I.”

That was what made this world of his, ever more terrifying. Not it’s endless nature, the inescapable roads that all led back to here, not the monsters with their blood lust and relentless hungers. It was that desire, this world both a paradise and a hell, created with one thought, one person in mind. Her, Lenneth the entire reason for this world’s warped existence, the woman, the GODDESS, the motivating force that had driven this man to such extreme lengths.

She continued to look straight ahead, to the south, determined to run this world’s gauntlet all over again. He kept his arms around her, as though to take this one remaining choice from her. That embrace squeezed tight around her, letting Lenneth be aware of the solid mass of male muscle behind her.

“Le...Lezard!” His name was squeezed out of her in protest, his lips having touched upon her skin. She couldn’t stop the involuntary reaction then, doing a fitful squirming in an attempt to escape him, and still the man held on. She felt his growing excitement, felt it being pressed against her body, Lenneth choking on an infuriated scream. She trashed about, actually kicked back her legs, to suddenly find herself set free.

She had no sword, and still went for it’s place upon her hip by instinct. Her hands grasped at empty air, the woman spinning around, that fierce glower lost to her confusion to find the man was gone. Only his laugh remained, that sound and that of the words that hissed out of him with a sigh.

“Very well. I will be here waiting.” He said. “Waiting for the precise moment when you are tired enough to fall.”

“That will NEVER happen!” She shouted to the sky.

“Never is a long time to ones such as we.” He pointedly reminded her. “But run Lenneth. Run as far and as fast as you can….I’ll still catch you in the end.”

She let out such a scream, all her fury and fear in that expression, trying to drown out the smug sound of him. He just kept on laughing, that mocking note to his voice, giving way to that feral response, Lenneth spinning, making a stumbling bid for the south staircase. Her weary body burned with it’s exhaustion, her legs barely having the strength to hold her upright, let alone to move. She still kept on trying, taking those shambling steps forward that sent her flying downwards. The laugh that mocked all of her efforts, followed, the lower levels of this world filled with that sound for day upon days.

 

* * *

 

The Heavens were in chaos, the Gods that presided there all caught up in an uproar of fights and fear, each desperate for that of their own survival. The world that they ruled over was falling into ruin, Yggdrasil’s decay spreading to each and every corner of the nine realms. Wars had broken out, famine and despair touching upon everywhere, even down in Nifleheim. With no stabilizing force, Asgard itself would soon follow, the islands maintaining their equilibrium but for how long?

It was a pure and unrivaled hell, this nightmare of destruction carpeting the world. The preordained Ragnarok itself, paled in comparison, for little if anything stood a chance of surviving this, this unlawful and mindless devastation. He found it to be absolutely glorious, reveling in the chaos that had bloomed on the heels of Odin’s usurper.

The world full of it, all that despair and utter lack of hope, all that desperation and greed, and he was drunk off it, off the misery of them all. The humans of Midgard, the elves of Alfheim, and all the people of the realms in between. The Gods however, were a different story, their brand of panic a special flavor that he now savored. He practically shook with satisfaction, practically purred with his contentment, the laugh inside him barely able to be contained.

It made him wild, and it made him giddy, both halves of his nature alive with the chance presented before him. The opportunity that he had already made moves to take. The power was almost within reach, just a few pushes, and then? Then he’d be the one in control, Creation remade to suit HIS image. So hot and eager for that moment, that glorious start to his reign, the Gods themselves, so high and mighty would be crushed beneath his unforgiving heels. Both Vanir and Aesir, it mattered not just what side they allied themselves as, nothing would spare the Gods from his revenge.

“Loki!” A wasp sharp voiced snarled out his name. “Are you even listening!?”

It pained him to have to continue to simper and fall in line, especially to this bitch of a Goddess, but then destiny had not yet aligned so completely in his favor. To survive long enough for THAT, Loki would have to cater and play the devoted fool, so as to be far removed from suspicion.

“Ah, a thousand pardons, Lady Freya.” He gave the slightest incline of his head. “I was merely thinking on all that we already know, on any and everything that might be able to help answer our need.”

She was the golden Goddess, clad in form fitting emerald green, an imperious look to her face, as she glared down at him. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, fingers drumming an impatient beat against her flesh, Freya floating just out of reach. She wasn’t as untouchable and as perfect as Freya normally could be, the Goddess absolutely besides her with despair. With the loss she had suffered, Odin’s abduction, her lover’s possible death, hitting the blonde haired woman hard. That unflappable female was now a study in pain, her jade eyes made turbulent with it, and still she tried to think of herself as better. Better than those humans that felt so much, and better than Loki with his mixed blood.  
She wasn’t. NONE Of them were, as they were now all learning, reason and rationale given way to panic and the very feelings that they had mocked the humans for. They’d learn humility next, might even be made to grovel, but the one thing they would never have is that of Loki’s forgiveness.

“Then...what answer if any, have you stumbled upon?!” Freya demanded.

He gave an even lower bow, as though begging most sincerely for her forgiveness and tolerance. “None yet...none that can make any sense of what has happened.”

“Damn him!” Freya snarled, dismissive now that Loki had proven of no use. “Damn that man and his insufferable magic!”

“I just don’t understand how a mere human could make off with our Lord and Master!” grumbled the bearded God of Thunder, Thor. “How could he have attained such power!?”

“Silmeria was helping him no doubt!” Another God, one with red hair as fierce as the darkest of flames, now spoke. “Odin should have moved to neutralize her the second she became a threat, regardless of the Lord of the Undead’s interference!”

“Careful now...” Warned a female, a Goddess with blue eyes and the palest of yellow to color her long hair. “Brahms is no idle threat. Even wounded...”

“Even wounded should have made no difference. Finish them both off, says I!” The red haired God of War pounded a fist against a crystal that had floated by. It had cracked, but did not outright shattered, as though even this God had lacked his full strength to do more.

“Tyr!” Freya snapped out his name. “There is no use lamenting what should have been done...we need concrete answers that can actually help us!”

“You mean SAVE us.” Loki couldn’t resist the taunt, even as every eye was brought upon him, that of every God and Goddess turned to glare his way. “Trying to pretty up the truth won’t change the ruin that we face. Without a way to stabilize the realms...well...I’m afraid even we Gods won’t last very long.” He shrugged his shoulders with that. “If only we had a power source...”

“If only we had Odin!” Was the cry that the other Gods took up. “If he and Gungnir took their rightful seat on the throne of Creation, the chaos would be pushed back. Diverted long enough for us to reclaim the divine treasures, and use them anew as the cornerstone foundation of this world!”

“Have we had ANY luck in locating the four?” Freya asked the question, though that tired look in her eyes spoke that the answer was one that she already knew. “Any at all?”

“No.” sighed the Thunder God, Thor. “We know of WHO has the divine lance, but we don’t know where that mortal went with it...or with Lord Odin.”

“The Dragon Orb has been missing, ever since Hrist betrayed us.” added Tyr. “She cost us not just one, but two valuable power sources, in helping those vermin abscond with Brahms.”

“What of the Sylvan bow? And Levantine?”

“Not a clue.” admitted the Goddess with the pale colored hair. “The elves whisper of theft, and turn a mistrustful eye to us. While the Vanir make claims of a great beast having swallowed down the demon sword.”

“We will keep looking.” Freya decided. “Send out all remaining einherjar, to every last corner of the realms. I don’t care how many have to die, it is a sacrifice worth making, if we can find a way to save this world!”

“What if saving the world requires a different kind of sacrifice? What then?”

“Eir, you know I’d pay almost any price to restore order to this world...”

“Any?” questioned Loki sharply, seizing upon the green clad Goddess’ words. “Even if it meant exploring other avenues?” He paused a beat. “Ones that would see that A Creator was restored to the throne?”

“Of course! I want that more than anything.” snapped Freya.”I want Odin back, hale and hearty, and safe!”

“What if that Creator wasn’t Odin any longer?” Loki posed the question to the gasps and outrage of the room.

“Don’t even joke about that!”

“I am NOT.” Loki assured her. “But neither will I turn a blind eye and hide from an unpleasant truth. The facts as they are, Odin displaced, his body and his power taken, along with the divine lance. And with it, his life perhaps forfeited, to satisfy one madman’s desires, whatever they may be.”

“I will NOT accept that HUMAN in Odin’s place!” Snarled and seethed Freya, gold energy sparking off of her body. The jade of her eyes had narrowed, pure hatred in that look. “Nor will I allow anyone else to!”

“We might not have a choice….” It was Eir who had spoke up then, her voice soft and without reproach, as though trying to gentle the harsh truth that the golden haired goddess tried to deny with every fiber of her being. “If things keep on as they are….not even Gods will survive.”

“We WILL survive.” insisted Freya. “This is not our Twilight! It is merely a...set back.”

“Some set back.” muttered Loki with a snort, though inside he was fine with Freya’s stubborn inability to be reasoned with over this. It just bought him more time, time to plot, to plan, to scheme and to do, Odin’s power out there and within reach. He just needed the right tools, to find and catch it, to not only seize hold of that strength, but to make it a part of himself.

Soon. The words whispered in his head, though Loki knew even a second more was too long a wait, when his ultimate triumph was nearly at hand. Till then he’d keep playing the role, that of the weak mixed blood that he was, craven and cowardly with no right to dare dream of attaining something--anything more.

 

* * *

 

She knelt over the hastily put together fire pit, the dry leaves and broken twigs eager for a spark of any kind. They were left waiting, the sharp rocks being ground together again and again, her breath escaping her in a frustrated sigh.

“This was a lot easier with magic.” She grumbled to herself, and the thought was laced with a pain and a bitterness, the remembered feel of betrayal still strong in her mind.

“Yeah, I suppose Lezard did come in handy with that.” Some more wood was added to the fire she had failed to build, the gathered twigs and fallen branches almost mocking her with their presence. “But I much rather deal with some cold, then have to worry about a knife stabbing into my back!”

“Rufus.” She wondered what expression her face showed him with all that conflicting emotion churned up inside her. The green haired man smiled and knelt down beside her, though he made no move to take the stones from her. “We’ll have a lot more to worry about than the cold, if we don’t get that fire going!”

“Don’t worry so. The monsters all know to stay away.” Rufus gave a meaningful jerk of his head, in the direction of one of their comrades, a man who was as tall as he was wide, so completely rippling with muscles that he was looking very much like the physical embodiment of the strength needed to wield the long sword strapped to his back.

She stared at him, at his profile, his long dark hair, pulled back in a messy pony tail. He had a grim glower on his face, and a map laid out before him. His one finger was tracing along the lines, learning the runes there, the roads and the cities, and more importantly, the paths not often traveled on. It was a great deal of concentration that the Lord of the Undead gave that map, the hundreds of years he had spent hibernating inside his current host’s body, leaving Brahms woefully unprepared for all the changes to the land the humans, their many wars and their bid for civilization, had wrought.

He had much to learn, and not enough time to do it all in. Ironic that, given that the man, the vampire, should have had all of eternity at his feet. Instead he was made victim, hurried and harried by the blight and devastation that was fast spreading over Midgard. Brahms felt the weight of it, they ALL did, this world gone mad and made desperate in these last days of surviving.

“The monsters know...” She began carefully, resuming her efforts with the stones. “But without the fire to hide the true reason behind their sudden wariness, we’ll risk bringing suspicion down on us.”

“Heh...like anyone will care enough to notice, Alicia.” Rufus was far too relaxed and unconcerned for her liking. “Everyone from humans to elves to giants, are too busy panicking, too busy trying to make the most out of what might be the end of ALL our days.”

“No, the princess is right.” It was another large man, with enough muscles and scars to rival the impressive form of Dylan that Brahms currently wore. “If we’re not careful….”

“Not you too, Arngrim!” groaned Rufus.

“You know as well as I do, that THEY are looking for a power source. One they won’t hesitate to launch a full out offensive to take from us.” The warrior known as Arngrim chided the green haired elf.

“Is his power really that great?” Rufus asked, after sneaking a surreptitious look Brahms’ way.

“Strong enough to save Asgard for a time.” It was Brahms who had answered, his sharp ears picking up on that not so whispered conversation. His eyes remained on the map, the vampire king intent on his self appointed studies, trying to commit as much knowledge as he could, in as a short a time as possible. “The rest of Creation however, wouldn’t be anywhere as lucky.”

No one questioned it, not that strength, and not the idea that the Gods would be so selfish as to sacrifice the rest of the world, so that their own hides could be saved for even a short amount of time.

“You know who will be looking for us.” Brahms continued. “You know the lengths they will go to, to seize a power source…”

Alicia shivered at that. “We are all in danger. From them and from that madman we once called friend.” She was almost vicious then, the way she slammed together the stones, grinding them together, until that one reluctant spark fell from that clash. The twigs and the leaves eagerly caught hold of it, the princess working the stones harder, more furious sparks coming to join the first in the pit.

She felt no joy in her heart to hear the crackle of the newly lit fire come alive, not when the pain was still too raw, and too deep. Even weeks later, the sting of that betrayal was as fresh now as it had been then, all that hurt and confusion alive and inside her. She was torn, Alicia mourning the friendship, while hating the man, unable to accept, to reconcile and understand his many twisted choices. Everything from stealing Silmeria, to letting Dipan’s fate play out to a t, Lezard had run roughshod and wild over destiny, all in the pursuit of his own lust.

Alicia couldn’t forgive him for that. For Dipan and for Silmeria, for the world that had fallen into decay as a direct result of that madman’s doings, the princess actually hated Lezard. She thought he might hate them too in turn, given the way he had expelled them from his twisted world tree. Leaving them to die a slow death in a world that was rotting.

“He won’t get away with it!” Alicia muttered fiercely to herself. She was staring at the fire, feeling as though it was a mirror to the burning resentment inside her soul. That force just one of the many that drove her forward, Alicia determined to not only save this world, but that of Lenneth’s, destiny needing to be set back on it’s correct course. No matter the cost, she’d pay it herself, to ensure it was a world that not only survived, but one that thrived under Lenneth’s rule. A Creation where Alicia’s friends would be welcome and safe, where Rufus would never again need fear for his freedom, no one able to take that from him.

It wouldn’t be perfect, but then no world was. Not even Lenneth’s could lay claim to THAT. But hers was one born of a benevolent heart, the many beings of existence given free reign to make and choose their own fates, rather than toil under the heel of the cruel and uncaring Gods. Lenneth’s world was as close an existence as possible to a world free of the selfish dictates of Odin and his lessers. The kind of world that Lezard had claimed was only possible under HIS rule. All that he had asked for in return was complete obedience and turning a blind eye to all of his evil misdeeds. That had made him no better than Odin in Alicia’s mind, Lezard in fact even worse for the wanton destruction and violence of his actions.

He was a force to be reckoned with, as a human and as a God, his magic and his divine strength a potent and lethal combination. As Alicia now was, even with being that of an undead, left her with not a single chance of succeeding. Those odds weren’t much improved with the three men at her side, but then that is why they were on this mission. This journey to find the help that might just give them the hope needed, Silmeria and her sister Hrist’s souls, still out there somewhere. They just had to find them...

 

* * *

 

To Be Continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so roughly begins Triumph’s Tribulation, which is a revamped and re-imagined Lezard’s Triumph. I know I answered that Tumblr ask saying I wasn’t probably gonna work on LT ever again, and I kinda am not. Lezard’s Triumph is a very bare bones basis for what became Triumph’s Tribulation. Hoping to remove a lot of the elements I was unhappy with. Ironically what I was unhappy with the most, was most of the Lezard Lenneth side of things. I liked a lot of the Alicia Rufus side, though some of it I am not sure how to work into this version...or when….like when they got married. But I hope I could fit that in some way some how! XD
> 
> I’ve been excited to work on this for months, but had been stuck on how to get it started. My initial attempt was a Loki POV traversing Lezard’s world tree, to spy on the in game events...but I kinda really hated that attempt. Like this one much better, though I am not too thrilled with the third act, the Alicia POV…..X_X
> 
> Also can’t promise fast updates, as this is not the me of 2006, and I just don’t have as much time to write as often as I did back then. Plus OSVP is my number one priority as always. But sometimes it’s good to take a break from those monster sized chapters!
> 
> \---Michelle


	2. Two

There was something inside her, a wicked and wild energy that tingled through her every nerve, that restless power fighting against the cage of her bones, the trap of her flesh. It rippled with an awareness, with a hunger, that odd play of power needing an outlet of some kind. That inexplicable need is what had led to her current predicament, Alicia finding herself surrounded by no less than five monsters. Great, brawny beasts, with mud brown fur that was streaked with dried blood, with saliva soaked fangs, and dirt and bits of fleshy grime caught on their claws. Crimson eyes gleamed malevolent with intent, low, excited growls escaping the feral beasts, the circle around her narrowing, as the monsters each closed in.

Sword drawn and at the ready, Alicia stood absolutely still, her blue eyes on that of the leader, the largest of these five brutes. It seemed to lick its chops in response, then abruptly it lunged at the second most boldest of the group, the message clear. This puny little human was HIS. The other beasts growled and whined, and one of the half starved creatures looked as though it would challenge it’s alpha on this. That wouldn’t do, not for the ruler of this pack, and not for Alicia either, the young woman wanting the challenge, wanting to fight them all.

With that intent in mind, she let out a low scream, a harsh, defiant sound, her body coming alive with movement. She ran towards the largest, and the others broke the circle, for one all too brief second the pack having been made alarmed by their prey’s boldness. It wouldn’t last, the monsters too desperate, too hungry to hold back for caution, the smaller ones all charging her. Alicia screamed again, a vicious expression on her face, that twist of lips shaping a grim smirk as her swung sword clashed with fangs. That beast tried to snap her blade in two and got a taste of the divine power in the metal, a pained scream erupting out of the monster.

Her boot then kicked it, Alicia then flipping over backwards, freed sword in hand as the space she had occupied just seconds ago was cut through with claws. The monster almost stumbled as its attack missed, Alicia landing hard on the ground, so that one of her knees almost touched upon the dusty dirt surface. Her other hand moved automatically, the divine energy gathered in the palm of it, the shot then erupting forward, to strike at the leader, crystallizing flesh in a bid for time.

The monster screamed but was frozen in place, most of it’s body encased by that crystal. Big, brawny arms tried to batter its way free, but Alicia was already bounding forward to fight the smallest of the pack. There was no hesitation, even though the creature’s small stature was still nearly double that of Alicia’s own size. She dodged and weaved in close, aware of the other monsters nipping at her heels, the woman swinging and stabbing her sword about, an explosion of guts and gore causing an upheaval amid her quarry. They turned on it, lured by its injury, by the blood and the weakness exposed, savage maws tearing into skin. There was the sickening squelch of fat flesh being ripped apart, and then the crystal shattered, the incensed alpha immediately going for Alicia.

The other three distracted with their meal left the young princess devoting her full energy to fighting the giant. Leaping over it’s swipes, rolling through the space between it’s legs, to then thrust the tip of her sword up into its belly, this fight had never been a life and death situation, not for her anyway, the monsters finally having realized that this weak prey that they had hunted, was in fact the real threat to them all.

Her victory leaked into the cold expression of her eyes, Alicia doing bloody battle, wild and vicious in a way that she had never before been, something inside her screaming for this. For this violence, an excitement inside her, one that grew with every body that fell, her sword coated red with the grime and gore of her kills.

It was not enough. That thing inside her wasn’t satisfied, that restless energy demanding more. She wanted to scream then, awash with a cruel hunger that Alicia was in no way capable of understanding. A need that was getting worse instead of better, driving her from the camp, from the relative safety of the fire, from her friends, her partners, from RUFUS.

The nights were always the hardest. Whatever was inside her, came alive then, as though the darkness itself lent it power. Tortured by it, Alicia hadn’t had a good night’s rest in weeks. WEEKS! She could count the days to the exact moment it had started, something in Lezard’s twisted world tree having boosted her curse, so that the ghoul powder bit by bit was rampaging further out of control inside her. Not even the ring that she wore, that powerful relic of the elves, could hold it back in its entirety, Alicia scared. Frightened of what she was becoming, of what she might do, and of who she might one day hurt.

It left her all the more desperate, Alicia determined to save this world, to see it set down a path of the just, of peace and enlightenment, and with the freedom of choice. It was a dream shared by many, a dream that had started in Dipan, her father and their people, all determined to free themselves from the whims and the rule of the Gods. They hadn’t lived long enough to see it, and Alicia might not either, but she was determined to set the wheels into motion.

Rufus and the others would carry out the rest, Alicia positive they would hold Lenneth accountable should the Goddess herself break from it. From that promise of a better world, that benevolent future of a people who were free.

“Free...” Alicia whispered, that thing inside her thirsting for it’s own freedom. She couldn’t let it, not in its entirety, battle the one and only time where she let the wildness take her over. While the others slept, Alicia prowled the surrounding areas, spoiling for a fight. The monsters were always quick to oblige her, confused by her looks, that of a frail human at odds with the viciousness inside of her. Even now, that cruel energy had her hacking at a body, again and again, the dying squeals of the beast exciting that thing inside her. She couldn’t stop it, couldn’t keep her sword arm from it’s movements, flesh and blood flying, some of it getting on her clothes, and still she persisted, almost mesmerized by the gore.

Blood held a fascination for her now. Had ever since that first night in Lezard’s world. The answer whispered through her, but Alicia was so scared. Of it and the blood, of the unnatural, unholy desires that crimson fluid stirred within her. With a wild scream of pure panic, she flung her sword away, and leaped back, ready to bolt from the sight of it.

She tried, Alicia honestly did, but when she spun on her heel to turn away from the hacked up body, she ran right into the large and beefy torso of another. The princess couldn’t help herself then, so caught up in her wild panic, that she screamed. Her arms flailed about, hands not so much fists but claws, and woefully inadequate for the form she now faced. The apex predator that had seized hold of both of her fore arms, Alicia shrieking as her name was then roared out at her.

“Alicia!’ She was physically shook with that snarl, the woman startled to hear her own name given voice. It got through to SOME of her panic, her wild eyes focusing, allowing her to see, the monster, the man in front of her.

“Brahms!” She gasped, and couldn’t quite keep her mouth from gaping open with her shock. He gave her a look that said she knew better, the young woman coloring as though she had just painted a target on the man’s back. “Dylan...”

Brahms gave a gruff nod of his head, eyeing her steadily as he let go of only one of her arms. She colored even more, embarrassed to have been caught, to have been seen so wild and out of control. By him, by anyone, Alicia’s inner struggle one that she had kept private.

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

Her eyes widened at that, and then she sagged all weak and exhausted in his grip. “Figures that I can’t hide it from YOU.”

The Lord of all the Undead smiled down at her, but it was a sad sort of sympathy expressed. “At the rate you are declining, you won’t be able to keep this from the others for much longer either.”

She had already suspected that, but still it was alarming to have HIM of all people confirm it. “How long would you say I have?”

“Little more than a month at best….”

“A month...” Alicia whispered it. “Is that enough time to….to set the world back on it’s correct course?”

“The bigger question is does this world even have a month left to it.” Brahms solemnly answered. “The decay is spreading, the ruins of Yggdrasil poisoning these lands and the people at a rapid pace...”

“We have to hurry then!” Alicia exclaimed, trying to pull free of his grip on her arm.

“We do indeed, but we must PACE ourselves.” Brahms advised her. “To push too hard is to the detriment of us all. You especially.”

“Me?”

“The change you are going through will be helped, not hindered if you continue to recklessly take the actions that you did tonight.” She flinched as though struck, a shameful color spouting to life in her cheeks. “I am not without empathy.” He told her. “I remember too well what it is like to be on the verge of the transformation...long though the years have been.”

“Come, collect your weapon.” Her arm was abruptly released, an embarrassed Alicia almost meek as she went to find and pick up her thoughtlessly discarded sword. It was in the midst of a patch of tall grass, hidden and found only by her nose scenting all the blood on the blade. That raised her hackles, made her alarmed, the blood this seductive but repugnant smell to her.

She removed a cloth from her pocket to quickly wipe off the gore from her weapon, then sheathed the blade in it’s scabbard. Brahms shadow fell over her, the man wanting to talk a bit more.

“The fire alone won’t be enough to keep all the monsters at bay.” She reminded him, concerned for the sleeping Rufus and Arngrim’s safety.

“Which is why I commandeered a sentry.” Teeth flashed, but it wasn’t a happy smile. “It will keep watch over the camp….long enough for what I have to say to you.”

“What else could there be?” Wondered Alicia, more than a little uncomfortable at the thought. This was the first time she had ever been truly alone with Brahms, and for all that Alicia knew OF him, the woman couldn’t begin to claim to know it all. She called him a friend, but was that what they really were to each other? Or were they just convenient allies, working towards a similar goal together. Was it even the same goal that they had, beyond finding Hrist and Silmeria, and stopping this decaying world’s imminent destruction? Alicia simply didn’t know, Brahms a true mystery as to what kind of motive drove him.

She had none of the prejudice against him that other humans might, Alicia having spent her whole life under the tutelage of Silmeria. The Valkyrie Goddess had schooled her well to the truth, that woman having trusted in Brahms enough to not only save him, but to rebel with him. But even she had kept some secrets from Alicia, the princess having spent all eighteen of her years unaware that the vampire lord had hibernated inside her, hidden away in the soul of one of the many einherjar that was Silmeria’s to call upon.

Those einherjar were all gone now, freed and lost to battle. It left her empty inside, all lonely and without the support of their voices and encouragements, Alicia having to do everything on her own. Even trust her own sometimes misguided instincts. That gut feeling inside her said to trust in Brahms, to believe in him, even though such things were now difficult, the princess thrice shy after being burned by both Lezard and the woman she had once known as Leone.

She had yet to reconcile the anger she felt with Hrist over that betrayal, over her ruse as Leone. Over all the hurt and despair the black haired Valkyrie had caused in adhering to Odin’s decrees. The friendship lost paled in comparison to the family and kingdom that had been destroyed.

Alicia hoped she wasn’t setting herself up for even more heart break and betrayal, but there really was no other option left to her. They needed Brahms, SHE needed him, Silmeria out there somewhere, lost and waiting to be found.

With these thoughts in her head, with the restless energy inside her, Alicia was almost impatient for Brahms to speak. He was taking his time in answering her, walking a slow, sedate pace back towards their camp. She had questions, but knew that it was useless to try and rush him. Brahms would give her no answers until he was ready, the vampire keeping his own thoughts and feelings closely guarded.

Five more minutes must have passed in silence before he finally spoke. “There is a way.”

Alicia did a rapid, repeated blink of her eyes, not sure what he was getting at. “A way?” She echoed, and the vampire didn’t quite hesitate, giving her a solemn nod of his head.

“A way to cure the ghoul powder.”

She couldn’t help it, Alicia gasped, staggering back a step and nearly falling, if not for Brahms quick move to catch her. His hand behind her back helped steady her, Alicia almost grabbing at the open remnants of his vest.

“A way! Why didn’t you speak of this sooner!?”

He seemed to struggle with the answer. “We needed to find Silmeria…”

“We still DO!”

“And to that, we need strength...more strength than an entirely human girl can give.” His face didn’t turn to the side, not even at her sudden slap, Alicia absolutely furious.

“So you what, think to sacrifice me into becoming a MONSTER to better aide you!?”

“I can’t make amends for it. I can’t even apologize.” Brahms was stoic. “I can however, realize that I have been going about this wrong.” He caught hold of her wrists this time, Alicia wild and trying to slap him again and again. “Listen to me...this world doesn’t have a lot of time….but neither do YOU! It was wrong of me to try to take the choice from you, but it is a choice that YOU have to make.”

“What choice!?” Alicia cried out, still struggling against his brute strength, a power he wasn’t even exerting in an effort to control her. “I WANT to be fully human again!”

“Even if it means the world might end?”

“What are you talking about?! How could restoring my humanity lead this world any further down the path of destruction!?” She was absolutely flabbergasted at the thought, but more than that, she was so, so angry, and giving in to the power inside her.

“It might...it might not. But to go after the cure means you’d have to abandon your quest for Silmeria.” That stopped her up short, and at Alicia’s gasp, Brahms gave a grim nod. “I have not yet pinpointed her exact location, but the disbursement of energy sensed, leads me to believe Silmeria lies far from where you’ll find your cure...”

She was torn, all her fight dying inside her, even that wild buzz of energy was silenced, as Alicia gaped open mouthed at him. “Wh…what?” She shook her head in denial, then crumpled to the forest floor, Brahms looming over her in concern.

“There is no choice for it then...” She moaned. “Silmeria...no the world, NEEDS...”

“Do not be so quick to make a decision either way.” His voice rasped out the advice. “It would be difficult alone, but I can and would press on to find her. To find THEM. Just as there is no guarantee that with or without you, the world would be saved...”

“Then WHY are you EVEN telling me all this!?” Alicia cried out in an anguished tone of voice. “Why!?”

“Because she would want you to have that choice...that chance.” Brahms answered. “And if the world cannot be saved, then Silmeria would want you to live out the last of your days, happy and at peace...” He sighed. “Or as at peace as this world gone mad can possibly allow…”

“I...”

“Rest on it.” Brahms advised. “Think and talk this all the way through...with the others, with that man of yours...”

“He’s not mine...” It was almost automatic, the response and the blush, Alicia trying to deny the feelings that were there between her and Rufus. There simply was no place for it, Alicia having no real time and no real right to nurture the growing affection into something more. It would be selfish otherwise, selfish to the world, and hurtful to Rufus, given the fact of her condition.

“Talk with him all the same.” insisted Brahms. “You might find the clarity you need, to make the decision that is best for YOU.”

She ignored the hand held out to her, Alicia slowly pushing up off her knees with that of her own power. She found herself nodding though, her heart needing to unburden at least some of it’s concerns to someone. To Rufus, Alicia resuming their trek through the woods, as Brahms began telling her everything else that she had need to know. It was maddening how much he had held back, and for how long, and yet Alicia couldn’t help but to understand his reasons as to why. With the world and Silmeria at stake, with all the help needed, the chance of salvation as slim as it was, she would have done no different. She still couldn’t, Alicia answer almost already solidified in her heart.

 

* * *

 

This world was in a constant state of flux, ever evolving, changing with the whims of it’s creator. It was the very reason why escape was proving near impossible, this twisted creation a cage designed with one person in mind. Lenneth, everything that she did, every tactic that she thought to try, rousing a response, the very land and it’s monsters reacting. Working together to corral and contain her, Lenneth exhausted from the endless battles she waged near constant.

She hadn’t rested in weeks. She hadn’t dared tried, this land too quick to prove violent, deceptive in it’s warped attempt at beauty. The very trees could and had come alive, their branches like the tentacles of a kraken, reaching for her. Without her sword, the Goddess had had no choice but to outrun those monstrosities, feeling the dirt beneath her feet start to crumble apart, and suddenly Lenneth had been falling, tumbling through a twilight colored sky, the roar of the wind rushing past in her ears, the feel of a storm cloud dispersing as she fell into one.

It left her wet, Lenneth now able to add it and cold to the list of her current miseries. The shock of that unpleasant sensation didn’t hold the strength to combat her overwhelming exhaustion, so that upon impact with the downy soft feel of a grass that carpeted around a lake, she almost didn’t get up. The Goddess actually just lay there, sleep nearly pulling her under, the temptation there to just take five minutes to herself.

Her tired eyes actually started to droop close, a hot surge of anger at herself suddenly experienced when the Goddess realized just what she had begun to do. That fury inside her, it’s burst of energy wouldn’t be enough for long, Lenneth struggling to sit up. A strangled gasp caught in her throat, her surroundings again changing, the trickle of the lake’s surface becoming that of a roar. That violent sound cascaded liquid down over the entrance to the cave that she now found herself in, the dark and dank cavern a hidden alcove built into the cliff side of an immense water fall.

She hadn’t yet stood, Lenneth just contemplating the view through the blurred curtain of the falling water. That of the world beyond, that sight taunting her with the sheer enormity of her impossible task. It was GROWING. Piece by piece, and by leaps and by bound, Lenneth could see the far edge that should have been the end of this world, instead taking on new additions, confirming her fear. It really was expanding, it’s borders endless. She’d never be able to outrun it, never be able to move fast enough to get ahead, this world malicious in it’s determination to keep her.

This world was a never ending nightmare, HERS, Lenneth tasting despair. It was more potent than that of the only other times that she had previously felt such a feeling, the Goddess once having cried for her world, and cried for the love that had been slaughtered. A love and a people she might never return to, trapped as she was by Lezard’s creation.

She couldn’t even draw comfort from their memories, from the strength and support of those people. Their voices were too far away and fading faster yet, this warped timeline settling more into place. Every second wasted here, meant the future was closer to being lost, the ripples of the paradox that Lezard had caused eroding away everything, even that of Yggdrasil. She wondered then what effect it was having on this present era, if the destruction had yet started in the world outside Lezard’s direct sphere of influence. Was anyone safe? Past, present, and future, would anything survive?

She no longer knew. Lenneth lacked the answers to that, to those questions and to her doubts, the woman plagued with them. By her own worries and insecurities, by the fear that perhaps her own stubbornness and bad judgment had led them all to this destruction. A dozen what ifs and even more questions, swirled in her head, Lenneth wondering why she had ever let Lezard live long enough to get a chance to run this wild!

It had been her own foolishness, her own pride and belief, the Goddess having assumed that everyone deserved a chance. A choice, Lenneth as Creator, gifting her people with the freedom of their own will. For good and for bad, the destiny before them, theirs to then mold, it had been her own arrogance that had let Lenneth think that none would aspire to something more lofty than they had deserved. She had never anticipated Lezard, had never thought that madness inside him that powerful a force, his ambition not that of greed, but of lust.

She had been a fool, so blinded by her own confidence, her ability to handle anything that Lezard might have thrown at her. She had LET him live, even with that lengthy list of sins and blasphemies already staining his soul black. He shouldn’t have been suffered to so much as exist, his ambition towards her too great an insult, the mad man having outlined quite clearly what he had wished of her, from that first time that they had ever met.

Love. Her lip curled at that, the Goddess knowing it wasn’t that. It was obsession, it was lust, and it was control, Lezard having always sought a way to subdue her. She had been in a form he hadn’t a hope of overtaking, those mad schemes of making her a human, having been abandoned for the impossible. That of becoming a God himself, and still she hadn’t been able to believe it, not even at Mystina’s insistence to be wary. Lenneth wondered if she would ever get the chance to tell Mystina that her instincts had been RIGHT, Lezard having found the way as had been feared. She owed her more than that, an apology being needed, Lenneth knowing Mystina had been right about so much, About this situation, about Lezard, and about the fact that Lenneth could not do it all alone.

Her own stubborn ego at play, Lenneth had not brought even one of the einherjar with her. Now she had no one, cut off from both the world and that of the time line, the Goddess left to flounder, unable to do much of anything except wallow in her regrets, and determinedly press on.

 

* * *

 

At first he wasn’t sure as to the reason why of his abruptly snapping awake, the camp and the surrounding forest, quiet but only to a point. Night owls hooted, while things crawled through the bushes, but it wasn’t anything atypical of what one could expect when camping out in the woods. The animals were about, both prey and predator continuing their cycle of life, their survival dependent on each other. On their deaths, flesh the priciest coin that these creatures had, and always there was something bigger, meaner, hungrier than the last.

It was a sound that was not only expected, but one he was used to, given the years that he had spent living on the road. Alone or with companions, and it hadn’t made much difference to the animals and monsters prowling about. Rufus would have been more worried to find a sudden silence, only the most fiercest of creatures able to frighten so thoroughly an entire forest of wildlife.

The sounds were still there, the noisy buzz of insects, the bird calls through the trees, the scurrying sound of padded feet running about outside the camp area. So then what was the reason for his sudden uneasiness? What could possibly be causing such a reaction inside him, Rufus checking to make sure his bow and his quiver of arrows were still in reach like he had left them.

Slim arms suddenly eased around his torso, a slight weight snuggling into his back. With it came the awareness, that of a young woman’s body, and that of her clean scent, the princess of Dipan never one for the thickly cloying perfumes that would have otherwise overwhelmed the half elf’s senses.

“Alicia?” It was a soft murmur, Rufus confused by her actions, by her sudden nearness. It had been weeks since their last true moment of closeness, the princess having become distant and aloof ever since they had left Lezard’s mad world.

“Pl...please...” Came the whispered plea, her voice sounded distorted with desperation. “Please, just let me be selfish this one time...”

He understood that even less, Alicia the least selfish person the half elf had ever met, and he told her so. A sound came out of her at that, a kind of choked out sob, that left the man trying to turn, Rufus alarmed.

“Don’t…!” pleaded Alicia, and to his surprise, those slender arms of hers, had a real strength to them, squeezing him tight in an effort to keep him from moving. Whatever was the matter, Alicia didn’t want him to look at her, at least not yet.

“All right.” Came the easy agreement, though his heart beat a protest. Relief didn’t outright pour off of her, Alicia then touching her forehead to his back, to the part that lay between his two shoulder blades, and he couldn’t stop it, the elf reacting. A heat to rival that of that time on Yggdrasil had colored his cheeks, Rufus blushing and feeling awkward.

He couldn’t help it. This was Alicia pressed against him, the fit and firm feel of her curves being made known to him, that clean smell sweeter than ambrosia to an elf that was all man. He could have died then and there, a happy man, Rufus caught in the enclosure of her arms. It was more than he had ever dared ask for, this quiet warmth finding a home within him. It was dazzling and real, this feeling capable of only being stirred to life by one other, by Alicia, the first, the only love of his life.

It was a love that he had started to think was unrequited, Alicia having pulled back from the closeness they had once shared. He hadn’t minded it much when in Lezard’s world, their quest too urgent, too desperate for a true romance to bloom, but afterwards? Rufus could admit to feeling hurt. By the rejection he had perceived, Alicia becoming damn near unreachable, and he had never understood WHY.

He had tried to make excuses, had tried to reason it out as Alicia needing time to grieve, to accept the betrayals and the comrades lost. The elf had even wondered if that distance was born out of the young woman’s own brand of shyness, the princess suddenly finding herself the only female in a group of rough men. He’d still be trying to puzzle it out, but then the sniffling had started. His eyes widened, Rufus feeling a new kind of alarm. Alicia was CRYING, and he didn’t know why!

“Alicia?” Again he tried to turn so as to have them face each other, and again found himself held in place. This was not the strength of a normal human, this wasn’t even the strength of a princess who had once hosted a Valkyrie, this was in fact something MORE.

His hand touched her right one, feeling the ring of Mylnn fit firmly in place. It was still too big a jewel for a hand as petite as hers, and yet it was a vital part of her now. The only thing keeping her curse at bay, the magic he had once hated for keeping him alive and perfect, now able to be the only salvation left to the princess.

Things would have been different if Rufus had been able to become a God. Forget about Lezard, and the ruin he had plunged the world into, as the supreme deity, the elf’s first act would have been to completely cure Alicia of the poison in her veins. That wasn’t an option now, not with Yggdrasil in decay. Not with the Gods as they were, the current pantheon of divine, all selfish and needlessly cruel and without an incentive to cure anyone, let alone Alicia.

“Don’t worry, Alicia...” Rufus spoke in a hushed tone, as not to wake up the snoring warrior who lay closest to the fire. Arngrim didn’t so much as stir, the man having the utmost confidence in their undead companion’s ability to keep all the monsters at bay. Rufus didn’t know if Brahms ever even slept, the vampire studying always the last sight the elf would see before he inexplicably drifted off to sleep. Last to bed, and first to rise, that man always busy with something or other.

“Somehow, someway, we WILL break your curse.” He felt the flinch, felt the way Alicia’s whole body recoiled at those words. Now he was the one turning, grabbing at her, trying to keep her with him. She fought him with an unnatural strength, that level of power a sign that something was very much wrong.  
“Alicia!”

There was an angry snort from the direction of Arngrim, the warrior rolling onto his side, so that his back was to them. It was the only privacy he could give them, the stubborn man refusing to be drawn out of his sleep so completely.

“Sorry...”

“No..no...I should be the one apologizing.” She was no longer fighting, as though conscious of disturbing Arngrim any further from his much needed rest. Her head was bowed forward, the sweep of her honey hued blonde hair, casting her face in shadows. “I’m being a bother...”

“You are NEVER a bother. Not to me.” His answer was immediate and fierce, Rufus hugging her against his front. Her fingers curled into the coarse cloth of his tunic, but Alicia didn’t look up. As though she was still trying to hide the crying they both now knew that she was doing still. “What is it….? What troubles you so?”

“Ba...bad dream...”

“This is more than some bad dream.” Rufus insisted. “Alicia...please….share with me...tell me what’s going on!”

Rufus couldn’t begin to know just how long the princess then hesitated, a small eternity seeming to have passed, before the young woman that he loved, slumped against his chest. “Alicia?”

“What...what if there was another way...” Came her hesitant voice. “A way that didn’t need a God’s miracle? Would you...would you take it?”

“If that way meant a cure for you? In a heart beat!” There was absolutely no hesitation in him, Rufus steadfast and determined in his devotion to the princess. “I would do ANYTHING to help you, Alicia. You KNOW that..”

She shook her head, but it wasn’t an outright disagreement. “The cost is too high...”

“Cost?” His eyes widened. “Did you discover another way!?

“It doesn’t matter...”

“Of course it does!” Rufus insisted. “This is your life we are talking about, your humanity! If there is a way to restore it...”

“We don’t have time.” The words snapped out of her with a harsh breath. “Not with things as they now are...”

“Well, sure, the world is in a bit of a pickle…” Rufus was trying to be optimistic. “But we’ll soon have that taken care of….”

“Not soon enough.” insisted Alicia, and she finally lifted her head, so that he could see the tears gleaming amid the color of her blue eyes. “Not for me...”

“Alicia?”

“Silmeria waits, in a land far removed from the direction of the cure.” He gasped at that, the implications that of another kind of cure actually existing dulling the shock of what else she had said.

“So there is a cure!” Rufus exclaimed. “Then we must...”

“I can’t do it!” She interrupted him. “I can’t risk condemning the world for my own happiness!”

He had an awful feeling, Rufus suddenly this much closer to understanding why she had been crying. Her hope had been dangled before her, and then crushed, Alicia’s own fist destroying it and all thought of salvation.

“Damn it, Alicia! For ONCE in your life, stop being so self sacrificing!” He hissed at her, hugging her tighter against him. She fought against him, not with her body, but with her words, Alicia telling him that she couldn’t.

“Why!?” Rufus demanded. “Why can’t you!?”

“We have no guarantees of succeeding, even if we find Silmeria and Hrist...and I…if the world is to end, I want to spend my last days at your side...”

“You can still have that!” Rufus told her, too heated to feel awkward. “I’ll go with you anywhere, whether it’s to find Silmeria, or the cure….Alicia, I...”

“You can’t!” Alicia tried to shush him. “You wouldn’t...”

“The hell I wouldn’t...we’re...” He hesitated, not sure what label to put on the complication that was the growing feelings between them. “Partners.” The half elf settled on. “My dearest...friend...No matter what it takes, no matter what it involves, I’d fight any demon, if it meant helping YOU.”

“Even if it meant having to face your own past?” He wasn’t even hesitating, wasn’t taking the time to try and figure out what that could mean, and his stubborn desires only made Alicia cry MORE. “Rufus I would never expect you to do that...I would never ever dream of asking you to risk it...”

“To risk what!?” He cried out, his frustration with the princess succeeding in finally waking Arngrim up fully.

“Find some space elsewhere, or go to sleep!” Arngrim snarled, giving them both an evil look. “It is too early for this bull shit!”

Alicia flinched at that, but Rufus did not, the elf firmly gripping hold of her chin, to force her to meet his stern look. “Anything Alicia.” His voice was full of his earnest passion, Rufus sure his eyes were blazing a striking color with his determination. “No matter what!”

“The cure lies within the domain of the elves.” Her eyes were leaking tears again, the blue gleaming beautiful for all that pain and misery. She seemed to sag with that admission, and Rufus couldn’t lie, reeling for a moment in shock, struck dumb at the thought of going anywhere near those people. Next to the gods, the elves were his least favorite of all the beings of Creation. For the tortures they had inflicted on him, the beatings, and the freedom they had tried to keep from him.

“That settles it then.” Rufus knew his tone was decisive, and Alicia was nodding as though in acceptance. “We’ll just have to go steal that cure TOGETHER.”

Her lips parted on a gasp, Alicia now shaking her head no. Arngrim muttered some nasty words at their back, but all Rufus cared about in this moment was Alicia. With her pretty eyes made wide and wet with her shock. He gave her a crooked grin, ignoring all her protests of how she couldn’t let him do that, Rufus determined to prove more stubborn than his spirited little princess in this.

 

* * *

 

To Be Continued….!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know...I said not to expect fast updates, and yet here I am churning out the second chapter already. But I feel inspired so far..even if the characters keep trying to derail me. 
> 
> The only thing I am not too happy about in this one, is that Lenneth’s interlude was so short. I also debated checking in on the Gods in this chapter, but decided it was long enough. May open three with one of those divine as the narrating POV...probably Freya OR Loki….But don’t take that as a concrete decision for sure!
> 
> Later!
> 
> \---Michelle


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Putting a semi not safe for work warning just in case. There is no sex, but Lezard is giving off this VIBE that might be troubling to some. Trigger warnings for that same vibe, and the dubious nature of the whole thing, At least the Rufus Alicia scene balances out that darker side with some sweetness and what not…even if they are going to be angsting a fair bit in the story. ^^;; 
> 
> \---Michelle

Those eyes of his positively blazed with their emerald hue, the half elf looking so determined, and earnest, and above all ready. He seemed pumped and primed for the lengths needed, Rufus ready to endure just about any type of ordeal in his desire to be of help to her. Alicia might have never loved him more than she did now in this moment, the princess’ eyes welling with tears. That blinding moisture was a mix of her gratitude, and that of her sorrow, the young woman understanding that the man had just made the choice she had already settled upon that much infinitely harder to accept.

His smile was this beaming beacon of all teeth, the half elf ever so happy for her. So excited, and hopeful, and ever so relieved. Alicia hated the thought of dashing it all, of the frustration and sadness and most of all the confusion that would follow. Would she ever be able to make him understand? Would Rufus even make the attempt to try? She was unsure, despite loving him so, the princess understanding that there was an inherently selfish side to the green haired elf who had so permanent a place in her heart.

It was at direct odds with her own self sacrificing nature., Alicia this gentle soul who would gladly take a blow meant for another. She’d shoulder the world’s burdens, uproot the very heavens in an attempt to right a wrong, and yet this choice of hers was the one thing she could not protect Rufus from. Not now, maybe not ever, the information given her, too great a secret for Alicia to ever keep from him.

With those tears welling in her eyes, the young woman briefly closed them as though shutting away the sight of Rufus and his eager smile. It didn’t give her nearly enough strength, Alicia wanting to be swept away by the elf’s excitement and hope. It should, could have been so easy to, but then that was not the kind of woman Silmeria had helped shape her to be. The Valkyrie the voice in her head from before she could truly understand the words, the princess had gone above and beyond any royal duty, to champion this world and its people. Even at the many great costs to herself.

The curse was one of them. The loss of her family another. There was the destruction of the kingdom she had thought had turned its back to her. Even the betrayals at the hands of those she had called friend. She had not only lived through it all, she had survived, becoming a stronger, better person for it. That had all been the fire to forge her, Alicia brave, determined and bold. Doing what was needed, rather than what was always wanted. Selfless to a fault, the young woman had grown to become the kind of hero the Gods themselves would have clamored for.

She wasn’t one of their chosen though. Alicia wasn’t even guaranteed a place in paradise, given the enemies she and Silmeria had made. Both of them had never given much of a damn for their own personal gain, fighting instead to right Odin’s many wrongs. That that tyrant was no more, didn’t seem to much matter, little having changed under the new God’s rule. There was still a world that needed saving, and a villain that needed to be stopped. A sacrifice was again needed. HERS, Alicia snapping open her eyes with a bold determination that belied the gentle touch she did on the hand cupping her face.

Rufus didn’t immediately sense it, too lost in his own desire, that want that was both selfless and selfish, the half elf ready to screw over the world to help one single, solitary soul. That part of him endeared the man to her, even as it made the princess exasperated, a frustration pushing and pulling at her, for the elf had made things so much more difficult than they need be!

A sigh expelled out of her, Alicia leaning into the warmth of Rufus’ hand. It was so inviting, that heat, able to push back all of the cold that she felt. That look in his eyes was like it’s own sun, Alicia wanting nothing more than to bask in it’s radiance. He was everything to her, her rock, her foundation, her friend and her solace, yet also a source of worry, from the reaction she already anticipated, to the beat, beat, beat of his excited heart, the woman growing stiff with the realization that she could hear it, AND the blood coursing through his veins.

It should have been repugnant, should have sent her lurching away. Instead Alicia found herself stepping closer, almost as though she would press up against him. All to better listen to those sounds, to the hypnotic beat of his heart pumping that temptation through him. She then breathed in the scent of him, Alicia’s nostrils flaring, that coarse sandal wood and leather smell unable to disguise the vitality of him. The life and the strength, and what it could do for her.

It wasn’t his blood that she was smelling, but that of his soul’s essence. It was this intoxicating feel, something that Alicia could have easily gotten drunk off of, her eyes slitting half closed in a kind of ecstatic contemplation of how to best drink him down. He was oblivious to the danger, Rufus stroking a solid hand over the length of her honey hued hair. It wasn’t just his hands that were that tangible a presence, all of his flesh was, the elf’s very existence a marvel, the man made real through some miraculous force that even Alicia herself did not understand.

Her arms wound their way around him, Alicia pressing her cheek to his chest, to better listen to the sound of his heart. It beat as though he was still alive, as though he hadn’t been murdered, Rufus a ghost given solid flesh that was maintained through a remnant of Silmeria’s power. That same energy that gave Rufus and Arngrim flesh, was what allowed Alicia to sometimes cast crystals.

That power and the memories were all she had left of the Goddess, the sister that had been literally torn from inside her. She couldn’t abandon them any more than she could the Valkyrie, a deep seated understanding, that purpose, driving her, Silmeria out there somewhere, though in what shape and situation no one could say. Not even Brahms, the undead Lord knowledgeable about a great many things but only to a point, the future something that no one could know without having lived through it first.

She couldn’t help but grow dark, the future something that they were all fighting to still have. Tomorrow no longer guaranteed, there was no point in pressing forward to anything other than the chance that might save them all. No matter the personal cost, and Alicia had let this farce of happiness go on for too long! Abruptly, she pushed back, a pointed step taken away from Rufus. She couldn’t bear to watch his joy dashed by her hand, and yet there was nothing else she could do. No other choice to be made, Alicia bracing herself for the elf’s worst.

He comprehended the change in her immediately, acknowledging it with a question in those bright eyes. Her name was voiced with a desperate edge to the sound, Rufus making a move as though to follow her, and only her voice’s sharp insistence stopped the elf in his tracks.

“Don’t!”

It was both a command and a plea, a strained voiced entreaty that begged for so much. For his patience, for his tolerance and understanding, the princess not wanting to be bombarded further with the doubt and disbelief that was already making her decision hard enough. The bright color of his eyes growing dim, sank that hope with it, Alicia bracing herself against all of the elf’s desperation and anger, and even that of his love.

“Don’t make this any harder.”

His eyes narrowed at that, the green color of them so dark with his upset. “This is too important a decision to be anything but.” He countered. “Not when it’s your life, your very humanity, at stake here!”

“One person doesn’t out weigh the good of the many.” That point was one she firmly believed in, Alicia’s shaking her head with emphasis. “Be they God, human, or other...no one person is more important than that of the countless lives that could be saved.”

He seemed to flinch with that truth of hers, Rufus’ expression a grim glower that almost had the princess stepping back towards him. There was no amount of touch that would soothe him though, no words that could soften that expression, no promise that could be given save one. The one thing Alicia could not do, the young woman refusing to be selfish.

“You and I both know that.” She continued. Her tone was soft, but no less strong, Alicia trying to appeal to his empathy with the reminder. “We both had our entire lives nearly destroyed by the whims of ones who only cared about their own desires.” She had to fight to keep her own expression from darkening, thoughts of those ones, of Lezard and of Odin, springing to the forefront of her mind.

“I lost my entire kingdom, my family, because of one tyrant’s need to oppress all others with his rule.” continued Alicia. “Just as he tried to steal away your freedoms, your worth as a person, even ultimately your very life, all from his own cowardice and refusal to accept that the end comes to ALL.” Bitter was her smile then. “It’s just some of us get that fate meted out to us a lot SOONER than others.”

“Too soon for some.” Rufus grumbled, his expression near deadly with it’s seriousness. “And this is far too soon for YOU!”

“You don’t get to decide that. None of us do.” Alicia countered gently. “If it is my fate to die with this world, or to ultimately become a full fledged undead, so long as I do everything in my power that I am able, I can die secure in the knowledge that I had made every effort that I could to try and stave off the destruction of the nine realms.”

“What of peace?”

“That is one of my greatest wishes. For the people to be free and at peace….” She began, but Rufus interrupted her.

“It’s not that of the people I worry about, it’s YOURS.” Rufus’ eyes flashed with their angry intensity. “Are you able to say you’ll have peace should the worst really happen? Will you perish with a smile on your face with the knowledge you sacrificed everything to help a world that never gave a damn about you? About us?”

He had such a narrow view when it came to other people, the torture and abuse he had suffered at the hands of his eleven captors, coloring his world in such concise black and white. Rufus couldn’t see the gray areas, let alone the color all around them, so sure that people as a whole were either all good, or either all bad. The man tended to believe in the worst of everyone, his heart having been closed up for so long. It had taken time for his walls to come down, for him to stop being so cold and distrustful of others, and Rufus still had a great many steps to take before he could wholly believe the world with it’s all manner of people, worth saving.

“You can’t, can you?” Rufus’ question had made Alicia realize she had hesitated too long on her own private thoughts. “You won’t be at peace, and you won’t be happy...”

“Of course I won’t be!” Alicia snapped. “Few if any go to their deaths HAPPY about it.” Again she shook with her words. “I don’t need that level of happiness, that kind of peace, as long as I know that I TRIED!”

“Alicia!” He looked madder than ever, so frustrated by her heated response. “You...” He faltered as though the anger itself had stolen his voice.

“Rufus...” She still wouldn’t let him get any closer to her, Alicia needing the space to be able to think free of his pressure. “What kind of life do you think we are looking at here if we WERE to go after and actually get the cure?”

There was the rapid blink of his eyes, the question giving him pause. “A...”

“With the world as it is...with the rate of decay and no guarantee of any way to stop it...” She couldn’t finish that thought, closing her eyes briefly, then looking at him once more. “I do not want to spend what might be our last days fighting and angry with each other. Any more than I want to have to count down the time that is left to us of a fragile happiness that is ultimately FALSE! Even if cured, how can we possible live out the world’s last few days with such a delusion, with the people panicked, the land itself withering, Yggdrasil dying a slow death and taking ALL with it?”

Now she did step towards him, though it took every ounce of Alicia’s strength to guard against the effect his pain and misery had on HER. “We can’t.” She said, and moved as though to touch him. “There is NO future for us down this path...”

That look in his eyes gave way to a kind of helplessness, Rufus on some level acknowledging the truth of what the princess had said. “There...there’s no guarantee of a future down the other path either….”

“I know.” She couldn’t help sighing with that admission, that painful uncertainty its own undeniable truth. “There is some sliver of hope though….a chance of some kind, for the world and for US.”

He closed the distance between them, expression far too serious from what Alicia had grown accustomed to expecting from the man that she secretly loved. Gone was the mischievous twinkle, the slight curving of lips, the half elf cupping her cheek with a hand that was coarse and callous from an eternity spent working a bow. Rough though that touch felt, she still leaned into it, eager for the warmth and reverence conveyed in that caress.

“Us.” It was almost fierce, the way he repeated it, and there was a certainty to that as well. Her pulse beat with an excited hope all it’s own, Alicia daring to wonder if the elf had realized even half of what she had, when it came to the heart’s own soft emotions.

“Us...” A third saying to confirm it, Alicia almost shy as she peered up at him through thick lashes. “So long as I am capable of drawing breath….so long as my heart still beats...”

“And even after.” Rufus finished for her, and there it was. That teasing smile whose hint curved his lips upwards. “Arngrim and I are with you…”

She was grateful for the words, even as Alicia was confused by the mention of the warrior. “Arngrim?”

“He and I are the tangible proof that you don’t necessarily need a pulse or breath to try to change fate.”

“Ah….” She was otherwise silent at that explanation, but inside her thoughts were all a flutter at the reminder, none of her companions alive in the strictest sense of the word. They were the einherjar manifested, and there was the Lord of the Undead, and even Alicia soon wouldn’t be able to lay claim to life and humanity as she had known it. The princess was mostly at peace with that fate, but there existed a kernel of doubt inside her. The fear of what the full fledged change would do to her, the people it might make her hurt, and worst of all was the thought of becoming the kind of monster that Rufus might not accept.

Such a thought once borne, would worm its way deep inside her. The doubting voice that whispered in her head, a question she dare not ask out loud. Would Rufus still be able to love her, once Alicia’s transition was complete? And would there be any room inside HER for that soft emotion, for it and all of the good intentions she currently harbored? She didn’t know and that frightened her most of all, Alicia having seen both the good and the bad of the undead, and it was an unfortunate fact that most tended towards the latter. Would she be any different, or was her fate, her very nature already sealed? The princess just didn’t know, and the scared Alicia most of all.

 

* * *

 

His world continued it’s growth at a steady pace, the environs quick to adapt and evolve forth new challenges in it’s ever changing terrain. An extension of his will, of his whims and his desire, Lezard’s Creation put forth all it’s effort towards not only caging the quarry within, but pushing her to the absolute limits of strength and endurance. She wouldn’t stand a chance then, all hope of defiance lost, Lenneth giving in to the inevitable, to him, Lezard’s love and desire consuming her, setting them both ablaze with that mad passion that had motivated a great many impossibilities.

He had to bite back a laugh then, near giddy with the realization of it, with the power coursing through him, Lezard made God, the absolute ruler of it all. That strength inside him was a restless energy, tempered but not tamed by his world’s continuing evolution. He burned off the worst of it with that expenditure of strength, his creation coming alive as a direct manifestation of all that he desired, a time and a place that solely existed for love, stripped free of all burden and responsibilities of the outside world. This endless outcome a possibility made real through his own genius and manipulations, there was only one final conquest needed to cement his triumph firmly in place.

His world sought to deliver him just that, as though Creation itself was impatient for the joining together of their flesh. As new lands formed, and others shattered apart, those roads all inexplicably led Lenneth back to Lezard. With every step that his beloved Goddess took to distance herself from him, this newly made reality wrought only rounded it’s way back in on itself. So that even now he could hear her armored footfalls, that determined thump of her metal grieves slowing as though Lenneth too had realized the folly of her efforts.

His lips curved with his smile, Lezard having heard the exasperated sounding sigh that the Goddess had let out. The sound of her footsteps then stopped completely, as though Lenneth was contemplating what to do, on whether or not to press forward down the path this world prodded her towards. It was a sign of his patience, that Lezard waited just beyond reach, more curious than anything, over what her decision would settle on. That it took more than an hour for her to again resume moving, was telling, Lenneth ever this much closer to falling completely.

“I don’t mind that you continue to expend all your energy on this useless a pursuit.” He commented almost casually, the confidant cadence of his voice carrying easily to her. Those soft, uncertain footfalls, suddenly became angry, Lenneth doing an about turn, to come charging towards him. He stayed with his back to her, the newly made God counting down every step forward as just another minor victory on his part.

“You may run yourself ragged through the never ending course of my world, the outcome will always end the same.”

He sensed the movement behind him, felt all her tired anger and rage channeled into the swing of her arm. That blow went right through him, Lenneth stumbling forward only to be then caught by flesh that had gone solid. Locked into that embrace, the cobalt blue of her gaze, met the heated intensity of eyes that were colored an unusual shade of amethyst.

Such a dark myriad of emotion was in that gaze, all of his lust, his love and his desire made stronger with the need to dominate and to seduce, to coax forth her every response, willing or otherwise, Lezard ever so hungry for this and this woman alone. Lenneth the reason for his very being, the motivating force that had driven him to ever so new and inventive and ever so desperate lengths, she both empowered him and stripped Lezard of his self control.

He should step back to maintain some illusion of distance, to take back that fragile grip on restraint that had thus far kept the man from throwing the Goddess down. The lust inside him screamed otherwise, conflicting desires waging war at the right and wrong of that one step taken too far, Lezard still hoping, wanting that one bit of willingness given up freely from her. She wasn’t yet ready, he could see that by the anger of her expression, Lenneth tired but not broken, still ready to fight him to the last, bitter breath.

“How you torment me so.” The words practically moaned out of him, the Goddess fitfully struggling against him, only to go still with her disbelief.

“I torment YOU!?” She demanded with a snarled out hiss. “Am I not the one who as you so concisely put it, has been run ragged through this never ending obstacle course you call your twisted Creation!?”

“That all pales in comparison to a desire unrequited, a need gone unfulfilled.” He was maddeningly calm while she was so angry, Lezard casting a longing look at her. It encompassed her whole, touched upon her lips, stroked along her skin, and took note of the bedraggled state of her armor, the blue metal cracked and outright broken in some places, her skirt’s hem made frayed and tattered, the white of it splattered with dried blood and dirt. She was stunning all the same, perhaps made even lovelier with the marks left on her by the trials of his world.

“Then allow me to help put you out of your misery!” She had gotten an arm free of him, her hand slapping hard across his cheek. Powerful was that blow connecting on his skin, and so perverse was he, to have enjoyed it so, an excited moan escaping him, as Lezard urged her to do it again.

For one inexplicable second, the Goddess’ eyes had widened at that request. They then narrowed, his beloved downright haughty, as she refused him that satisfaction too. “Degenerate!”

“No, not that.” He corrected. “Just desperate for any touch of you, no matter how slight, or how angry, it may be.” The God didn’t imagine the fine shiver that went through her at that, no matter his beloved’s attempt to mask it with her fury, the Goddess was afraid. Made tired and vulnerable, and ever so wary, Lenneth a woman first and foremost, and one as prone to a female’s fear as any other.

That vulnerability the one thing all shared, be they mortal, Goddess, elf or any of the other hundred types of sentient beings out there, any woman would know to be on guard against a wolf so near. Especially one that had gone to the lengths that Lezard had, such extreme measures taken, the fantastical having happened, reality itself remade to accommodate his and only his desires.

Such absolute power, it and its undeniable nature, was a heady, potent mix, and made only more so when Lenneth was this near. His arms stayed at gripping her, the angry Goddess held fast against the solid length of him, and so exciting was this woman, with her flashing eyes and silver blue hair, that Lezard found himself moving to capture her lips with his.

For one split second, it seemed as though Lenneth would allow the kiss to happen. Her lips actually trembled, their mouths almost touching together in a most intimate of caress, and then her teeth were snapping at him, the woman ready to savage and bloody him for the attempt.

He just barely avoided the bite, Lezard lurching back. The process gave her leeway to struggle free, a metal booted foot slamming onto one of his, a hand that’s dainty appearance belied the strength contained within it, pushing at his chest. He grabbed at that hand’s wrist, use it to keep her from fleeing any further from him.

“There is a limit to even my patience.” He told her, his own eyes holding just a sliver of threat to them. He caught at her other hand, Lenneth again having tried to slap at the God, Lezard using his grip on her wrists to jerk her off balance against him. “Do tread carefully Lenneth, lest you learn that first hand...”

There it was, another fine tremor had went through her, regardless of the hate filled look that she gave him. It soothed the worst of his anger, Lezard wanting nothing more than to reach out and offer a comfort to her. To caress fingers over that smooth perfection that was her cheek, to feel the silken texture of her hair against his skin. Such things were sheer folly, an invitation to disaster of the worst kind, given how Lenneth was anything but receptive in the moment.

A deep breath expelled out of him, as though he was the one who had every reason to be exasperated here. Cobalt bright eyes glared at him in response, Lenneth so bothered by him and that sound. There was nothing Lezard could say, nor was there anything that he could try, that would make this easier on her. The God understood that, knew that she had to come to him on her own terms when it came to acceptance.

“I know you don’t want to hear it...” His tone was soft and gentle, the words like a whisper on the wind, this world gone quiet in an effort to hear them. “That doesn’t change the fact that I love you...or that everything I’ve done, EVERYTHING, has been for the sake of you.”

“Your idea of love is sick, you’ve twisted everything around, and for what? A woman who despises you? Who will spend the rest of our eternity hating you with her every breath?”

He refused to let Lenneth rile him up that way, Lezard instead giving a slow nod. “What is love, if not a sickness? An affliction of the heart? If my feelings really are an illness, then there is only one cure for this madness.”

“There is no hope for one such as you.” She retorted. “The only solace I can give a sinner like you, is the complete and utter destruction of your soul!”

“That you’ve done and more.” countered Lezard. “You’ve ruined me, Lenneth. From that first moment of awareness, to every encounter after, thoughts of you have consumed me, waking or dreaming, I have lived, breathed, even died for you.”

“Nonsense!”

“Is it? Is it really?” He challenged her. “You drive me, Lenneth. You are the fuel to the fire of the flames inside me, the motivating force that allowed me to achieve so much...I’ve a whole legacy created because of my obsession for you.”

“You’ve a legacy of corpses, whole worlds ruined in the name of your pursuit.” She shook her head almost violently so. “Do not try to pin your misdeeds on me!”

“If I am the miscreant, then you yourself are the very sin that led me down this path of blasphemy.” A crooked smile was then given, Lezard speaking with a certain finality to his thread of thought. “You are the embodiment of everything that has ever mattered...those feelings that you inspire, the very foundation of who I was meant to be. I LOVE you, Lenneth. I have from that first time, and I will throughout all of eternity.”

“No...”

“Yes.” Such a simple sounding word, but it was insistent. “It’s the truth that you don’t want to admit to knowing, the fact you can no more change than you can ultimately deny it. I love you, I’ve always loved you, and I always will…” His grip on her wrists had turned harsh, Lezard leaning in to breathe in her scent, that of her nerves and of the perspiration that had come from all of the Goddess’ endless efforts to escape him.

“You don’t love, you LUST!”

“Lust and love go hand in hand with what I feel for you. My lust may want you for my bed, but my love isn’t satisfied with that alone. I’ll have your body and I’ll have your heart, each and every last bit of you will belong to me as thoroughly as every part of me is YOURS!”

“Never!” She all but spat in his face, Lenneth shaking and jerking free of him. “Never do you hear me?! I’ll never belong to you! Nothing you can say, nothing you can do, will change that! No matter how much you violate me and the laws of nature...”

“What laws!? Odin’s? Yours!?” Lezard scoffed with a rude sound. “Those laws and the God who made them, are no more, the world and its rules rewritten. Those taboos no longer matter, no longer exist, the only will made possible that of the absolute entity, a new world born with a new power to rule it!”

He advanced on her with that, watching as Lenneth made angry but empty fists, that sword of hers having long been lost ages ago. “That strength is mine, this world and it’s creatures at my beck and call, I am the being who bends a knee to no one, NO ONE!”

His tirade had her hit against a marble column, Lenneth giving a startled sound to find the solid surface suddenly behind her, and it was yet another manifestation of HIS will, this world again trying to hand deliver Lenneth to him. It even went so far, as to start growing thick vines of green, the strands creeping steadily toward her, as though intent on binding her in place before him.

She didn’t make it easy. For it or for him, Lenneth kicking and thrashing out her legs and swinging her arms, the vines tearing in the process. Such violence only inspired more to grow, the vines coming faster and made even stronger, all in this world’s attempt to catch at her, until the Goddess was at last so thoroughly tangled up. Caught as she now was, there was little recourse left to her save to glare absolute murder at him.

“Lenneth.” He tried to stroke her cheek with his gloved fingers, but was bit for the attempt. She tore through the leather and the skin, might have bit down to the bone if Lezard hadn’t snatched his hand away.

The wound itself wasn’t of concern, the power contained within him accelerating with a burst of healing ether, the damage undone, not even a sliver of scar to hint at what Lenneth’s teeth had just done.

She was still bound up by the vines, and shaking violent with every squirming attempt to break free. Her eyes maintained the glare, though there was a speck of wary worry contained amid that hate, as though Lenneth herself realized her actions had been a step too far. No flimsy apologies, or feeble attempts at excuses were offered, the Goddess defiant and surely bracing herself for what she thought he’d do.

It was almost admirable, that bold way that she continued to challenge him. The remembered sting of her teeth tearing into his flesh made it less so, Lezard fighting a surge of anger. “It’s all right.” He said out loud, that reassurance as much for his sake as it was for hers. “It’s all right if you’re not ready. For now I can love enough for the both of us...”

 

* * *

 

To Be Continued….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm….maybe I’ll add more to the end of this chapter. I don’t know. Having one of those moments where I ended on a line simply cause everything else that tried to follow it, didn’t feel right. Maybe it’s just cause I am sleepy at this point...I don’t know. 
> 
> With thanks to Huntress for talking and giving me feedback on snippets and concerns, even though she hasn’t had time to read the existing chapters yet. You really helped hon, even if you try to deny it. The Rufus Alicia scene would still be stalled, if not for the talks we had about it!
> 
> Also special thanks to my friend Paige, who decided to read this, even though she’s never played the VP games. You gave me that extra push of motivation and excitement, to get back to work trying to finish my Rufus Alicia scene...so that I could get to the Lezard Lenneth one!
> 
> The RuAli scene mostly tripped me up on dialogue. Had the opening part with Alicia’s internal thoughts done, and then stalled a long while on how to write out the actual dialogue. Didn’t want them fighting too bad about what should be done. Ended up real happy with the scene...even if I sorta forgot Arngrim was trying to sleep during all this, sheepish Ooopsie! 
> 
> \----Michelle


	4. Four

It was insanity at it’s worst, that flimsy grasp for reassurance not able to bury the thinly veiled menace of his words. The intention that was both a threat and a promise, that warped feeling not so much love OR lust, but instead this overpowering desire to dominate. That twisted need inside him, it was to Creation’s misfortune that there was only one heart that this man sought to possess. That it beat with unease within her was an unfortunate fact, Lenneth feeling those flickers of fear turn to outright panic, the woman unable to stop, heedless of the way those thick vines bit into her very skin, the Goddess desperate to free herself.

“No….No….” It was a cadence meant to be soothing, the expressed concern something that could not reach through to her. Lenneth fought against her restraints, that blind panic resulting in bruises, more of her cracked armor fracturing apart, to reveal the plain white dress worn beneath it. She was being stripped of all her defenses in the moment, her sword already long lost, her strength in it’s last faded reserves and the gear that had shielded her, bit by bit eroded away by this world. By its efforts to deliver her to him.

Trussed up all tight and secure, the Goddess could only bite back a whimper, this world’s attempts neither subtle nor kind. This mindless entity that was Lezard’s attempt at Creation, was a beast that could not be reasoned with, no matter what Lenneth tried. She couldn’t understand it, not this world, and not her own lack of ability, this tired deity unable to reach within for a power that should have been there. A Creator in her own right, combating this place and its maker shouldn’t have been that difficult, and certainly not to this extreme!

Bruised and battered by this world, by its attempts to subdue her, the tired Goddess had been challenged in a way she hadn’t thought possible. Had it been HER arrogance that had led to such overconfidence? Had she let it blind her to the point she had not only misjudged the situation but Lezard, of just what he was capable of, the man not only grasping hold of the power of God, but fast understanding just how to use and manipulate it against her?

It was insane all the same, Lenneth understanding that even with Odin’s stolen power inside him, Lezard at best should have been her equal, and not her better.

“How...” Her pride made her bite her tongue, Lenneth unable to admit to the weakness, nor to acknowledge out loud to him the confusion that it caused her. Why couldn’t she make this place heel, why did even these vines, thick though they were, refuse to give way, this world and it’s oddities, refusing to acknowledge the power inherited inside her?

She hadn’t a clue, her frustrations added to the panic experienced. That wild fear, and her lack of true knowledge, made Lenneth feel more and more like the sixth level Goddess she had once been, and not the Ruler of Creation that she had in fact become.

Vision full of the man, the usurper before her, Lenneth tried to mask the shaking that her body was doing, with those continued efforts to break free.

“You are HURTING yourself with that effort.” He was frowning at her, the chiding tsk of his voice much like an exasperated parent to a child. “Lenneth...”

“The only one hurting me is YOU!” She shot back, and the trembles vibrated through her, making the vines rattle in response. “Damn you, stop this!”

“This world is only reinstating a simple but undeniable fact.” He was drifting within reach of her, an already wary Goddess on high alert for another of the God’s attempt to steal from her. What form would it take this time? A touch of her hair, her cheek? Or would his daring make him bolder, a kiss or worse forced on her?

“You are MINE.” There was a finality to that statement, a knowing grimness that birth forth new dread within the pit of her stomach. “Now and forever.” added Lezard, reaching an eager hand towards her. The vines tightened even further, trying to hold Lenneth absolutely still for their master, and it was either give in or be hurt, and already she was finding it difficult to breathe.

“Never.” She managed to gasp it out, even with the vines squeezing her roughly in place. “I’ll never be yours!”

“You’ve not fallen enough if you can still cling to that belief.” Lezard was calm as he answered, those fingers of his caressing over the vines rather than touch on Lenneth directly. That thick green foliage practically rippled in response, the world itself pleased by its Lord’s attention. It made Lenneth shake with revulsion, those ripples that weren’t outright unpleasant, the vines heeding some unspoken command to loosen its strangle hold upon her.

“It does beg the question though...” Continued Lezard in that calm tone. “What will be that final push, that breaking point, that gets you to accept the inevitable...”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” spat Lenneth. “So long as that inevitable’s outcome is an eternity spent with YOU.”

“You say that now...” cautioned Lezard. “When your strength has not yet been completely exhausted. You’ll sing a different tune when it and all your hope, your delusions of escape have been abandoned.”

“YOU are the delusional one!” Lenneth shook her head no, the vines quivering as though in warning. “Always and forever, you are MAD, that sickness inside you trying to warp everything around you.” She felt the fierceness of her words, of her belief, translate into the expression of her face, Lenneth’s eyes flashing with a glare, her lips twisted with that snarl. “Love itself is not a sin, but what you do in the name of it IS! You blasphemy against that emotion as much as you do against God!”

“Then let my soul be blackened with the sin of loving you.” His hand had lifted up from the vine, the leather texture of his glove suddenly on her cheek. She tried to throw it off, but the vine’s reaction was immediate, tightening to the point she could no longer move. It couldn’t stop her from glaring, anymore than she could keep him from emitting that crazed sounding laughter.

“Lenneth, ah Lenneth...” Again that chiding tone, amusement glinting in those dark eyes of his. “What exactly is the objection? The thought of being dominated so thoroughly by the one who has always been the most devoted to you? Or is it the fact that I was once the man, the being, you thought so beneath you?” He leaned into her, breathed in deeply of that scent and fear, while wearing that odd smile on his face. “You thought me lower than a snake...not worth the time nor the effort to put down. A mistake yes, but not the worst you’ve ever made.”

“What do you mean by THAT?”

A casual shrug of his shoulders, the laughter in his eyes giving way to a barely suppressed anger. “I’m not the first human to sin in the name of loving you.”

She almost said the name then, almost cried out in protest, thoughts of Lucian filling her head. Of the earnest blue of his eyes, the lopsided grin, a love inside him that had never died, that had followed him to the grave and beyond. Such a love that had wrought its own heartache and devastation, a world destroyed, and still she had forgiven him.

“He acted without true knowledge.”

“His ignorance is no excuse. He let himself be used, manipulated, for his own selfish desires.” Lezard drew an exaggerated breath.”Ah but you mean to tell me that it is somehow acceptable? When both outcomes are the same? In that we are no different...”

“You are nothing like him!” protested Lenneth.

“I’m BETTER.” Lezard countered with a smirk. “In every sense of it, and do you know why? Hmm, Lenneth? Can you possibly guess? It is because, when I act out of love, it is for the woman before me, and not the memory of a love, a life, lost.”

“He didn’t see you for you...Lenneth, he didn’t love you, but instead loved the person he thought he could make you be! That child, that one life in a string of hosts that housed you for a good millennia.” His lip curled then. “Did it make you happy to be called by her name? To be the ghost given flesh for his desires?”

Her hesitation in answering was telling to them both, Lezard the voice that spoke of the uncertainties that had only whispered faintly inside her. It had never sat well with her, the name and Lucian’s insistence in using it, and yet Lenneth had tried to look past that stubborn cleaving that they had both done to that child. A girl name Platina, who had lived and died a tragic life, whose chance for more had been stolen the moment Odin had had need of the Goddess who had slumbered within her.

They weren’t the same. Lenneth knew that, she and Platina both their own separate entities. But the feelings were there, the memories of that fourteen year short life, and all of the other hosts before it, every last one that Lenneth had slumbered through helping to shape the Goddess’ humanity. Her kindness and caring, her sympathy and her empathy, those very feelings that the Gods had tried to seal away, Odin himself having deemed it too dangerous for any of the three who governed over fate to retain. He hadn’t been able to outright destroy those memories, but the God had been able to make them forget. Both Lenneth and Hrist, and Odin would have done the same to Silmeria had the youngest of the Valkyries remained in his control.

Those slivers of human empathy had been seen as a curse, a poison infesting those Odin would have remained his loyal dogs. Judge, jury, and executioner, Odin had twisted the express purpose of the three Goddesses whose right it was to govern over fate in order to seize a ruthless and total control over Creation. The God Odin had abused all, every last law and sanction, manipulating souls, pitting entire realms against one another, all for his own warped amusement.

He had been a tyrant left unchecked, a pitiless God who had cared only for more and more power, and the means to wield it. Lezard wasn’t much better, his concern not for the world and its people, but for what his own selfish heart desired. It made Lenneth all the more desperate, not for herself, but for Creation, for the many who existed within it’s nine realms. Both the present and the future, Lezard’s actions in the past bringing the danger of destroying it all, lives lost to the chaos of a God who cared even less than Odin had.

There wasn’t time enough to argue with him in full, nor did Lenneth have any true desire to, her desperation and despair making her ignore his taunts. His insipid mockery, his blunt insinuations that what she had had with Lucian wasn’t in any way real. The Goddess had turned inward, trying to gather the power that drifted just out of her reach, as she again gave an impressive heave of her arms and that of her legs.

Her restraints immediately went to tighten, those vines an extension of this world’s whims, and though Lenneth could reason with neither, she could however make her point. In a fit that was more than just desperate, it was determined, Lenneth felt the protesting whine of the world as the green shackling her to the column gave way.

As she bodily tore free of it, Lenneth’s fist found its way to Lezard’s jaw. Its violent impact had his face turning, a breath blowing out of him, the man made momentarily staggered by the attack. She wanted to follow it up with more violence, but there was a stronger instinct screaming inside her, that need pushing her legs to run from and not to her tormentor.

With every step away from him that she took, the ground itself rumbled, the marble of this place’s floor turning jagged and ripping apart. It was his world at work again, and it was a Creation that was made angry by Lenneth’s insolence.

Every step was made to be a struggle, things grabbing at her, the marble beneath her running feet crumbling apart. Lezard himself had taken to the air, laughing wildly as he floated about, yet another verbal jab offered her in the most silken of tones.

“The truth hurts, doesn’t it, Lenneth…?!” A downright euphoric sound from him, the man purring. “Just keep on trying to delude yourself about Lucian and his true feelings towards you for as long as you can. It won’t make the pain any less, none of YOUR lies will!”

Those words pierced their way inside her to find and strike at her heart, Lenneth’s foot then slipping, casting her down into the cavernous hole that the world had torn open before her. It was darker than anything she had ever before born witness to, Lenneth free falling through an inky blackness that had filtered away all light and warmth and even that of sound. Not even Lezard’s mad laughter could reach her here, though the memory of his words, that taunting insinuation stayed with her.

 

* * *

 

The Heavens continued with its upheaval, its land violated by the ever worsening tremors and the darkening blight upon its skies. They had been without sun for days, a cold frost in the air that had helped to freeze and destroy all of the floral and fauna that had lent Asgard its unparalleled beauty. It was still a sight to behold, but not for any of the famed shining magnificence it had once retained, this realm dying a slow, torturous death. Not even the Gods as they were had the power to stop it, Yggsdrasil in too steady a decline, carrying with it the nine realms utter destruction upon it’s withering limbs and roots.

She could only stare out in helpless fury, watching as the decay continued it’s spread. Would Asgard be the first of the nine realms to fall? Would anything, anyone, stand a chance of surviving then? Freya had no answers, just more and more questions and that desperate feeling.

She didn’t like that panic inside her. That unwanted feeling had no right to the familiarity with which it assaulted her with, that terror alight in her blood, and it still didn’t outdo the overwhelming despair that had plagued her since Odin had first been taken. The Goddess, the first lady of the Heavens, refused to so much as think the thought that would consider her Lord and her lover dead. Her heart wouldn’t survive otherwise, Freya hanging on to that slim hope that the rightful ruling God of Creation could still be recovered. Downright stubborn with that unsubstantiated claim, Freya prayed for Yggdrasil as much as she did for Odin.

She couldn’t stave off it’s ruin indefinitely. Not even as the Goddess supreme of all things fertile, Freya trying to use the power inherent within her to keep some part of the great world tree alive and blooming. It resulted in a few pathetic looking shrubs with a warped limbs and sparse sprouts, but the blonde haired Goddess chose to believe that any sign of life no matter how shriveled, was still one of hope.

“Any news?” At least her voice maintained the illusion of her once indomitable strength. The ripple of divine energy behind her then signaled the God’s arrival.

“Nothing promising.” Came the deep rumble of disgust. It sounded like the storm itself, that voice holding thunder to it. Freya knew if she was to turn to glance the God’s way, she’d see the equally powerful sight of a lightning ablaze in the storm God’s eyes.

“The einherjar continue their search.” He continued. “More than half have been lost, some killed in duty’s line, but even more have been infected by the madness running rampant through the world.”

“So not even our einherjar are entirely protected from that sickness.” Freya murmured, then shook her head no.

“If they had a more direct hand guiding them...If a Valkyrie…”

“Thor, NO!” Freya blazed with her anger. “That option is no longer for us.”

“Why?” challenged the bearded storm God known as Thor. “Because Silmeria and Hrist both betrayed us? There is no guarantee that Lenneth will do the same.”

“I’ll not give her that chance.” A stubborn Freya retorted. “Not with these odds...not when already two of the three Goddesses who are meant to govern over fate chose to align themselves with those inferior races.” She was the golden Goddess, meant to be the ultimate in sculpted beauty, but that scowl on her face lessened Freya’s appeal.

“But Lenneth….”

“You think the most sympathetic of the three will chose any different?” interrupted Freya with a mean scoff. “When the coldest of the three, when Hrist herself sided with our enemies?”

“Then what do you propose we do!?” demanded Thor, one hand on his hip, while the other waved about with his fervent agitation. “Freya, we are LOSING here. Not just our home, but soon our very lives. This world won’t survive without an action taken.”

“One Valkyrie will not change the fate of an entire world. Only the Lord Creator can.”

“Then awaken Lenneth to FIND him!” Thor roared with his frustration. “This world...WE need Lord Odin. We need him, or we need that of the one who has inherited his power.”

“Don’t!” The snarl was so unlike her, Freya anything but the calm and gentle lady of the realm. “Don’t you even dare imply that Lord Odin is anything but…”

He was surprisingly subdued in the face of her anger. “We’ve no word for too long.” Thor took a step closer to the Goddess and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder in show of solidarity. “Freya, I want our King back as much as you. We ALL do. But the signs all point more and more that that is not to be. We can’t wallow in grief, we can’t let sadness and despair consume us...So long as we still live, we stand a chance, small though it may be, of saving the world that HE created.”

She was tempted to shrug free of that hand, Freya hardly taking any comfort from what Thor was saying. Her heart already so broken was having it’s pieces shattered even more at the thought that perhaps all that was left of Odin, was the Creation that he had ruled over.

“I...” A shaky breath escaped her, a moment of genuine weakness expressed. “I’m not ready to let him go...”

“Not many are.” Came the rumble of agreement. “But neither are they ready to follow our Lord and his world into destruction. Freya please...reconsider...Lenneth...”

She needed a time that they did not have, this world and it’s many realms ever closer to ruin. Even a single hour might prove costly, Freya not able to take the luxury of even a true minute to consider closely what must be done.

“Have the einherjar continue their search for the two remaining divine treasures...” She hesitated a beat. “Summon Frei...we’ll need my sister’s power if we are going to awaken Lenneth.”

“Yes, my lady.” Thor gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, but already the divine energy that was his signature power had rippled over her, the God of Thunder shifting between here and there with his ether. Freya was left to stand alone at the base of the withering World Tree, her own doubts and insecurities making the Goddess second guess things still where the Valkyrie Lenneth was concerned.

 

* * *

 

The dawn of the new day had ushered in an overcast kind of atmosphere, that of the bleakness of a Creation whose days were still numbered matched well by the darkened gray skies, and the sudden chill born in the air. It was too cold for it to be natural, not in this region of Midgard, these nameless woods a forest that bordered the edge of a total of three different nations. Those three had over the course of his long sleep, been through their own hard ships and glory, the passage of time bringing forth change and great leaps in an evolving culture, However, even as much as things had changed over time, some things had still remained the same, Gerabellum, Villnore and Artolia retaining their names if not all of their sovereign superiority.

They and their long storied history was just one of the many, so much there that he didn’t yet know, and a great deal more that must be learned in so short a time. The Lord of the Undead chafed at the constraints place upon him, every minute—nay every second, a precious commodity he could not afford to waste. None of them could, every being from the mortal humans, to the ageless undead, and even to that of the seemingly eternal, the Gods themselves, all faced this crisis. This world that was ending, Creation dying a slow, struggling death, and not even the fabled Ragnarok had been lauded as being as final as what was happening NOW.

This world and its people all doomed, there would be no rebirth found in this ruin. Not without the proper power in place, and as much as it chafed Brahms to admit to it, Odin had served a purpose. Tyrant though he may have been, cruel and cold, and ever so self serving, that God had kept the world from falling into this complete a chaos.

Though Odin was no more, the power that he had wielded was still out there. That yet another unworthy hand had laid claim to it, didn’t much bother the vampire king. That foolish mortal who had named himself God, could be supplanted, the control of Creation pried free of his uncaring grip. They just needed the tools to seize it, along with the right means to then host it.

He cast a surreptitious glance at one of his companions, the archer who did his best to underplay the most unusual of his features. He kept his ears hidden, but there was no mistaking what he was, that green colored hair a blatant giveaway to the elven blood within him. What was less obvious, was the side of him that was human, Rufus this rare mix of breed, that was so decidedly special. His gender made him doubly so, the only male of his kind to have been born to the elves in centuries. In a race that was predominantly female, and ones that shunned contact of any kind with those not of their village, Rufus birth was in of itself a planned anomaly.

Created with the sole intention of being Odin’s spare, Rufus had had a great many freedoms stripped of him. His life hadn’t been his, his body meant as a back up for a day that might never have come. His soul had existed as only the battery in which to fuel and keep the body alive, the half elf’s mind, his very sense of being, had been seen as just a this disposable nuisance, treated no better than that of an animal.

That very existence that the elf had so many reasons to hate, would have served well as a host to Brahms’ plan. If he hadn’t already died, Rufus now a soul manifested through the remnants of Silmeria’s faded power. There was no changing what been done, the lone vessel suited to inheriting Odin’s power lost to them all. It might have been enough of a deterrent to lose all hope for the world, but Brahms had seized upon an idea, the chance borne on the wings of a Goddess, Lenneth, who had inadvertently paved the way for a revelation or two. One part of the three who governed over fate, it made a kind of wicked sense that the Valkyries might hold the possibility of containing the power of Creation within them.

The notion now alive in his head, it didn’t much matter that Brahms did not understand the hows and the whys of such a possibility. The vampire was confident he would soon figure it out, together with the help of the Valkyrie he intended to seat upon Creation’s throne. The Lord of the Undead couldn’t imagine a more fitting Goddess to rule, Silmeria this kind and compassionate a being, and one who had always been ever so eager towards righting Odin’s many wrongs.

Of course to do that, she had to be found, Silmeria and her sister, Hrist, caught up in a sovereign’s rite that had been so carelessly cast. Lezard hadn’t much cared about the outcome, anymore than he had for any other part of this world, content to lead the realms into an upheaval with or without the Valkyries. But the three could never be destroyed that easily, the very essence of the Goddesses sent out out into the nameless ether that was this Creation’s heart and its’ soul. Although as to what shape and situation they both were in, even Brahms could not say, no true guess hazard. He could barely divine their location, the faint energy that seemed to be flitting around two distinct locations.

One roughly north of the forest that he now currently tread through, it was still a matter of time and distance before Brahms and his companions could close in one the first of the two missing Valkyries. He burned with impatience all the same, so much needing to be done, and so much wanting to be said, the woman, the Goddess one Brahms has owed so much to. There was a loyalty pledged to one another, a life sheltered within a soul’s embrace, Silmeria having SAVED Brahms and he her. There was a thanks to be given, and deeper feelings to explore, none of it yet having had the true chance, the vampire King awakening just at the Valkyrie had been abducted for the FIRST time.

The rage that taking had inspired had paled in comparison to the startling desperation that had also birthed inside him. Made vulnerable by it in more ways than one, Brahms had soon fallen prey to to the very power that he had tried to protect Silmeria from. Caught up in that enchantment, the vampire, the rightful Lord of all the Undead, had been reduced to nothing more than a power source exploited by the Aesir, by Odin’s own ruthless hand.

Awake and aware and left to do nothing more than bear silent witness to Odin’s foul misdeeds, Brahms had come too close to spending out eternity locked inside that crystal. If not for Alicia, if not for her bold trespass into the heavens, Brahms might have still been trapped at this very second and wouldn’t that have been ironic, that he, one who had spent a millennia fighting against the Gods, against their uncaring ways and downright selfish antics, would have then been that which saved those cruel beings from this world’s ruin.

That he was powerful was fact, Brahms bearing a strength that had been steadily built upon through out the course of Creation’s history. Such was the magnificence of the Lord of the Undead that the vampire King was deemed to be on par with any one of the four divine treasures. It wasn’t a strength strong enough to save the entire world, but then the Gods would have gladly sacrificed the other eight realms of people, so as to save their own blasted hides. That was the difference between them, Brahms a monster, but one that would see law and order and above all fair justice mete out. The people deserved no less, Creation a place meant for all.

Silmeria had shared in his ideals, the Valkyrie the one Goddess who had actively took note of the wrongness of Odin’s rule. Of the wars incited in his name, the souls killed and culled for his amusement, whole realms manipulated, just about everything and everyone a chess piece on a board which had followed only Odin’s own whims, the God had been downright fanatical in HIS quest to rule forever. He had been a tyrant, but more than that, Odin had been a coward, the fabled Ragnarok the end he had sought to avoid at all costs.

To keep his own life extended, Odin had violated the many laws of nature, had broke with the forbidden taboos, and yet still he had died. Murdered for the very power within him, the God had met a pitiable end at the hands of a human no less. That mage had both done the world a great favor and damned it all to destruction, this Lezard just one more villain in need of being put down. Then and only then, might the world not only be saved, but seen to prosper under a truly benevolent hand’s rule.

Silmeria was that hand, Brahms was sure of it. The one being deemed worthy, it was this reason that destiny had thrown them all in together, Alicia, Rufus, and even Hrist, all having a part to play. The path before them was just waiting for the one to forge it, the pieces all coming together under the vampire’s guidance.

Determined to see Silmeria made the new Lord God of all Creation, Brahms would be her sword and her shield, his very life offered up in servitude to her. It was the least he could do, a great many favors owed, Brahms debt a gratitude to her that might never be able to be repaid in full. He’d spend eternity trying, and if that gave him the excuse needed to linger in her presence even a bit longer, than so be it.

 

* * *

 

To Be Continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is so short compared to the others. @_@ Ah well, at least we finally got the first Brahms narrative, and we checked in on the Gods in Asgard a bit!
> 
> I can’t remember if I mentioned pacing worries yet in any of my author’s notes...Basically the Lezard Lenneth side is supposed to be more slow going than that of the rest of the cast. But I an endlessly worrying that the rest of the characters will reach a certain spot long before the LezaLenne side is ready...ERG.
> 
> I was looking at a map of the game’s Midgard, so I hope I gave them enough of a believable distance to traverse to find the first of the Valkyrie sisters…:o
> 
> I feel like I had more to say but it has already slipped my mind….I want to try and write a little every day, so that I can update my various stories more often. Get back into the discipline I had for writing, before pain derailed me so badly. Fingers crossed for luck in that regard!
> 
> Okay, like four hours later, and I am glad I didn’t post before proofreading. I ended up going over the Brahms POV (Which had a lot of typos and random missing words) and realized I must have been either really tired and or rushed to finish before leaving for my appointment. I’ve since not only proof read, but fleshed out the Brahms segment, so it ended up being a lot longer. The word count went up by around a thousand more words!
> 
> Michelle


End file.
